Trumpets' fanfare, riding, riding
'Neath the Blue and Red,
Gallopped Marshal Jimmy Donald
While the Tunak fled.
Marshal Jim rode off the valley
Down to Tunak-land;
Rounding off the sub-bots and
The Kumars' brutal hand.
Raise the standard, sons of iron!
Charge, ye horsemen brave!
Soar, ye warplanes, into battle,
We've got lives to save!
Marshal Jimmy, our commander,
You direct the way!
Through the dim and crooked darkness
To a bright new day.
There is the immediate air out of which you breathe
And those who live for it
And those who see the effects of the breeze
And attempted to speak for it
This is the politest way I've found to put it. Though neither is wrong, they're just different.
I am not a stream
Nor a babbling brook
I am a pond with a passing ripple
A sinking stone, thrown, once shook
With a shake often and aware of it
I am never content
With the soft waters unbroken
As a stream I am not known
One two one two
Stuck and Contorted Within A Space of Remarkable Silence, Your Room Sits Still, Mind Whirring Away Half-Heartedly
Walls Closing Inwards Like Heavy Iron Doors, Doors That Both Slam and Stub Your Spirit
Your Physical Appearance Takes A Dive to The Bottom of Your Worries, Thinking of Nonsense That Only You Believe Is Important
Days Pass by Your Closed Windows, You Don’t Care Which Way the Wind Blows
Pieces of you scatter and sway
With every footstep underneath
Like a string of steps beneath the sea
My hope is silt
And my thoughts are of you
Though the tides may turn
On a direful coin
As they press for only the most history true
It’s forever in memory and in mind
And in the quiet corners of my conscious mind
Where you will be
Drifting like the sparkling sands
Are the memories of you renewed
It's hard to let go of a pleasant memory. For me, something stunning and ironic keeps on resurfacing in my personal life. A song, a saying, etc. Suddenly it will just click for me mentally, stirring up the past like a cloud of silt at the bottom of the ocean.
And most difficult of all is that I WANT to be there. Such a beautiful sight is hard not to revisit. But I cannot survive beneath the sea. I'm not a fish.
is as present in
as the wind in
the stirring of
© Michael Lechner
She's an emotional cocktail
With thoughts stirring up inside
What is she gonna do with them?
It's for the ones with ideal solutions
What's the scientists gonna do with it?
Spinning in darkness
Battling to gain her senses
Sips down her coffee.
Hey guys, this is my first Haiku and I would love to get some feedback :) Thanks!
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